Similarity
by stardustedmelodies
Summary: Waking up from a slumber to find she was no longer the Wicked Witch, Elphaba sets out to forget her past life and start anew- but she finds out it's not as easy at it seems, especially with a certain scarecrow sleeping a few doors down. Fiyeraba.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: HERE I AM.

Finally, after lurking the fandom so long, my first fanfiction of Wicked. This'll be mainly bookverse with musical elements- particularily strong ones. Wouldn't want to give anything away, though, so i'll leave it here. Please review and tell me what you think~!

* * *

She awoke with a start, life seeping back into her as her breathing became consistent.

Surprisingly, despite her figure being restored to its full health, it took Elphaba a while to form the conscious conclusion that she remained in existence. The cold chirped and bit at her furiously, making her shiver as her mind fumbled around, searching for answers that simply did not come. Her eyes still prised shut, Elphaba both feared and anticipated what she would wake to.

Was she truly dead? Was that it?

All she was aware of, through closed eyes, was darkness. No blinding lights, no bubbling pits of hell. Just darkness. She both longed to know and feared of the truth. A grim look plastered her face as her eyes fluttered open, after a few long minutes in pensive thought. It took her a moment to register where she was, a moment for her eyes to respond to the trickle of light spilling from curtained windows. Blinking in disbelief, Elphaba rose to her feet, her bareness mirroring the love affair conducted in the room with a cold irony. She emitted a noise between a sigh and a choked gasp upon the knowledge of her whereabouts. She had almost missed her comfortable apartment in Emerald City.

Was she dreaming? She still did not know. Was she dead? How did she get here, most importantly?

Her feet rising, she steadied herself by holding out her arms, regaining her balance. She flicked on a lantern, and at that precise moment, Elphaba became aware of the substantial change that had occurred to her after the incident with the Dorothy girl. (Her death?) Her skin. Pale in colour. Sweet- well, sweet whoever, whatever- she wasn't green. Elphaba marvelled in her milky white complexion, the pink tinge in her hands. She gave a pained laugh. Had she been younger, she would have rejoiced. Now, she did not care much, but having normal skin had merely eliminated one inconvenience- being noticed by the people.

Elphaba let a rare smile grace her lips as she came to the realisation that a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She laughed, almost joyously as the weights lifted. No longer would she be the Wicked Witch of the West, no longer did she have to care. Selfish as it was, to disregard what was left of her family and friends, but that mattered very little. For once, she wanted time to herself. For once, it was her and only her, no one else. She embraced the prospect of a new identity, although reluctant to admit there would be a large portion of her life still unfulfilled.

Her facade faltered for a moment when she became aware of the vast amount of dried blood that caked the walls and the floor, the stench cleared over time. However, it was sickening to her eyes. She doubted she could even wash it off after so long. The reminder of her faults gathered in every object in the room, tarnishing its initial welcoming feel. She could never live here, not when she wanted to forge a new identity. No- it would be impossible having to live with the thought of Fiyero's death practically painted upon the walls. Dressing hastily, Elphaba gathered a few of her old possessions and the stash of money that she had used in case of emergencies, and exited the room before could she could vomit.

She needed a new beginning.

Her breath becoming heavy as she stepped outside, Elphaba really had no idea how cold it was. The dilapidated buildings of the street certainly looked more worn since her leave many years back. They lay there with an eerie, sunken look, as if life had been taken away from them as time dragged on. The moon was a polished piece of china in the sky, illuminating her vision. Snow fell in her black tresses, making her flinch and recoil on instinct from the contact. Elphaba's eyes widened in abrupt shock as the ice fell on her arms, melting to form drops of water on her skin. She brushed the water away but realised it no longer burnt her. She was going to freeze to death if she attempted to sleep on the streets tonight.

Too tired to think, she held her breath as she made her way back into her apartment, dusting off her old mattress and blocking out the thoughts that drifted into her head about a certain sensitive subject. Her hair fanned across her pillow, Elphaba slept, for once, content.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun's rays flooded the interior of the apartment, dancing upon the shadows and forming patterns of light. Of course, Elphaba had already been up much earlier, packing and planning and scrounging around for her possessions that she had left behind in a hurry the last time around. Her boots making the floorboards wince and creak, Elphaba slung her shoulder bag over her shoulder and walked to the door.

Something caught her eye- long, white cat hairs and she wondered, musing to herself, where Malky was now.

She left the apartment once and for all, closing the heavy wooden door after much effort. Her boots made footprints in the snow, as she breathed in the fresh winter air, determined to get rid of the scent of her bedsheets and the overall familiar smell of her apartment. Optimistic, almost, she walked along.

She would ask for work at the inn that she had first taken as her house when she had arrived in Emerald City as a runaway teenager. She could be fairly sure that it was still there- after all, it was a bustling business owned by an honest man who was understanding enough to let Elphaba stay in the inn by doing the odd job here and there in compensation. Of course, she had left quite quickly, forcing herself to use other methods to attain money to sustain herself.

Under the name Iva, a Vinkus name which was the first that sprung to her mind, she entered the door of the inn, its furnishings updated yet keeping the rustic feel it had to it after all these years.

Elphaba has asked for the owner of the hotel and instead of the man she was expecting to see, saw an aged woman, in her sixties most likely, with startingly blue eyes and a tender smile. Dressed in a simple grey dress, she offered Elphaba a seat next to her desk.

"So what brings you here?" she asked.

"I'm Iva-" Elphaba hesitated, trying to piece together words without lying any further, "I've travelled a long way, and I think I'd like a job here, if you will."

"It's nice to meet you, Iva." she cracked a small smile. "I'm Marillin, though there's no need to rush, I'm in no hurry. I'll give you the job, yes, but it out of curiosity, why, is a woman of such your age not taking care of family as opposed to being here?"

There was a guilty pang in her gut. She should be looking after Liir, she should be raising him, giving him her love as her duty as a mother. She should be looking for Nor. Awkward as she was at being a suitable motherly figure, she knew that that was what she was typically supposed to do.

Taking in a deep breath, words formed at her lips.

"I don't believe it's my place any longer."

Marillin didn't inquire further, which was a comfort to Elphaba. She gave her the job and her chores with little fuss and allocated a room for her on the third floor.

She later learnt that Marillin was a sympathetic woman who continued to run the inn after her husband (the man of whom she had been looking for initially) had passed away a few years back. She was fair, polite and quiet for most of the time, and known throughout the community for her hard work and persistance.

The job was of fairly decent pay, and it meant not worrying where she would sleep or eat that night. Elphaba's role was mainly housekeeping, in which she cheated slightly and used various memorised spells to do the cleaning for her. Marillin suspected this a while later and confronted her about it, but she did not mind much, for it got the work done, and the room was always left meticulously clean.

She had been there for a week, and yet Oz had changed so drastically in a short period of time. Elphaba was both amused (and quite glad) of Oz's current political situation, watching as Glinda- her Glinda, became the ruler of the country. Elphaba looked with bemused yet appreciative eyes as she followed Glinda's doings in the paper. She had to admit that Glinda was no longer the childish, super fluent girl which spent her time gossiping and craving the attention of boys back at Shiz.

She couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable and concerned about the rumours of a scarecrow taking her place as the ruler of Oz.

The questions circulated her head. Was it the same scarecrow that was in that girl, Dorothy's little group? Elphaba recalled how foolish she was for considering, even for a few moments, that the scarecrow with Dorothy was Fiyero. She remembered telling Liir that he "might just get his wish". How could she be so stupid? He was dead, and there was naught, painful as it was, she could do.

She went to sleep that night with her head buzzing with questions.

* * *

The next day was uneventful. It rained for the whole duration of the day, rain pulsing down on her window with a calming beat. It was only at night, when she was reading the newspaper again, that something moderately interesting had happened.

Elphaba remembered that she was reading the text in front of her, a small glass of tea next to her, as the bell rung over the inn's door to alert of someone's presence. Elphaba quickly snapped her head to the source of the jingle, cursing. She had forgotten to lock the proceedings, and it was an hour past closing time.

A figure walked in, and Elphaba hastily sprung to her feet to turn the man away, before noticing something unusual about the man.

It was the same scarecrow that had been with the child, Dorothy.

Their eyes met for a second, her brown eyes meeting his. Her sleeved hand brushed aside the paper she was reading, her boots making an unusual sound as she walked to the door.

"Sir, I'm sorry, we're closed for the night." she said, slightly pitying him as she looked at him warily.

He was an odd (man?) of sorts, scarecrow or not. His clothes were patchworked and worn, bleached and faded by the blistering rays of the sun. His painted face was strange- Elphaba couldn't quite pinpoint what set him apart. He had a cursed, sunken look about him, as if he had not slept in days had he been a man. His haunted appearance made her curious: his expression was so different from when she had encountered him a week ago, and yet she was sure this was the same scarecrow.

"Please. A room for the night- that's all I require." he replied. His voice was eccentric- it was scratchy, but reminiscent of a rich, gentle tone, as if he had come down with a permanent sore throat. Elphaba sighed.  
"Oh, alright, i'll go find a spare room."

She motioned for him to wait for her, closing and locking the door behind him to prevent further mishaps from occurring. Elphaba lead him to a vacant room on the third floor, ironically not far from her's. He thanked her brusquely, and she big him a good night as she crept downstairs and finished her light reading.

Her soft, (green-less!) hand running down a crease in the paper, Elphaba's eyes bore into an article on the prediction of the future of Animal rights; but despite this being the topic she fought diligently for, through the years of her life, her mind was elsewhere. It was up in the clouds, reminiscing of Liir and Sarima and Chistery and Nessarose and Glinda. Of Fiyero.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ugh, this kind of seems fillerish. Anyways, I wanted to start a new day for the next chapter, so apologies for the shortness of the chapter, I promise later ones will be longer. :l**

**Thankyou to all who reviewed, I love you guys! 3 **

* * *

The next day, Elphaba recalled her encounter with the scarecrow man, sighing as she tried to piece things together. Something was off.

She spotted him at the inn's bar, brooding over the counter without any refreshment in sight. This struck her as odd, but she did not comment. Elphaba sat two seats down, a book in her hand that she had purchased with her wages. She had completed all of her duties for the day already, save the suite on floor two who she assumed the occupants were still asleep, and the single bedroom on floor one which she heard raucous girlish sobs that she could here from the bottom floor.

Her attire was simple today: a black dress with long sleeves. As her eyes skimmed through the words on the page, she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the ongoing conversation between Marillin and the scarecrow from last night. Her ears picked up words she did not wish to hear.

"Dead. gone. That's it- nothing." she heard the scarecrow say in his unusual tone of voice. "I could have done _something_."

"But you didn't. What's now is now. Don't regret it- life's too short for that." Marillin snapped at him almost bitterly. Elphaba frowned; she didn't picture Marillin to be the type of woman to ever get visibly angry. The scarecrow looked down distractedly, and muttered something in Marillin's ear that Elphaba couldn't even pick up, despite her sharp hearing.

She knew it had something to do with her, as the pair kept on sending glances, conscious or not, her way. Tensing slightly and her fists clenched, Elphaba walked up to her room so as to redirect their unbecoming stares. She spent the rest of the afternoon in her room, listening to the soft lapsing of rain on her window.

* * *

Elphaba kept a cup of tea next to her as she read over the paper by the dim ceiling light beside the very right seat of the bar's counter. Elphaba revelled in being able to be touched by water without acquiring burns. In fact, it was still her natural instinct to flinch from water, but now she enjoyed it somewhat. Being able to take a bath was new and soothing altogether for her, and she found it giving and odd sense of relaxation.

Her hands crossed against the cool polished stone of the counter's surface, Elphaba was reading an article with a sceptic look upon her face. The article was poorly constructed and it had been full of flaws.

Her face remained indifferent as she heard the scraping of a chair beside her. It was the scarecrow, seemingly preoccupied with his thoughts. He placed his jittery hands on the counter and made indication to the woman sitting next to him.

"Anything interesting in there?" he asked mild interest.

"It depends what you define as interesting." she replied, not lifting her eyes from the paper as she spoke.

"Anything pertaining to the Witch of the West in there?"

Elphaba laughed on the inside, a little confused and alarmed at the scarecrow's ignorance. He was with Dorothy; how could he not of known of her- well, the Witch's fate?

Unless scarecrow was a thriving race, Elphaba doubted he did not know. Perhaps he had suspected her? A shiver coursed down her body involuntarily.

"What is there to report? She's dead." Elphaba replied, a false smile plastered on her face as she attempted to determine the scarecrow's motive for asking such a question. The scarecrow, however, did not reply, and silence fell between them for a while.

"What is your opinion on the witch?" he finally piped up, Elphaba meeting his eyes with a curiosity. What was she supposed to say? That she was a marvellous person? Or that she was wicked, like everyone else claimed? The scarecrow had put her in a difficult position that she had not planned to encounter any time in her future life. Elphaba frowned.

"I have none." she lulled her head back, trying to form a legible explanation. "I cannot judge a person of which their story I have not yet heard from start to finish."

This was true, her ending had not come, narrow as she just might of avoided it.

"I suppose so." the scarecrow replied, leaning forwards.

"Do you not eat nor drink? I seldom see people here, on this counter, without something to drink."

"I'm a scarecrow, madam, I don't feel."

She felt the slightest remorse for causing him ill during the Kiamo Ko fiasco, but now, she pitied him even more. Her eyebrows dipped a pained grimace on her face as she studied him. His eyes. They were a beautiful, rich, ochre colour, regardless of the fact that they appeared painted. They almost reminded her of Nessarose's- no, Fiyero's eyes. Maybe both.

"I'd give you my name, but I have none. Scarecrow is the only name that people have called me these past years." he said, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Iva." Elphaba replied, hesitating. She had grown reluctant to that name- it hadn't rolled off her tongue correctly. Iva was a princess in Vinkus literature- a story Fiyero had retold her once, just before sleep had claimed the both of them. She was far from the beauty of social status as a princess now.

"You're from the Vinkus?" shot the scarecrow, in a voice with so much intensity that his tone was practically accusing. Elphaba winced, annoyed at having to answer so many questions. When had scarecrows been so prying?

"Yes and no."

He did not inquire further or invade deeper into her privacy, which Elphaba was thankful for.


End file.
